Magic's Wings
by Athena645
Summary: When Harry goes back to his relatives' after fifth year, he expects it to be as normal as any other summer, but he soon meets a strange girl whom he befriends. But there is much, much more about her than meets the eye, as Harry soon finds out. And soon, he and his friends find out things that are truly extraordinary. Things that have also greatly interested a certain Dark Lord...
1. Chapter 1

Hi there Fanfiction readers! This is the first HP fanfic I've actually managed to post, so please bear with me. That being said, I would greatly appreciate it if you would critique my writing, (seriously, don't hold back just because I'm new) or just review for any other reason. Here goes... The first chapter...

**Disclaimer:**_ I own nothing except the characters that I make up, everything from the books belongs to J.K. Rowling and her publishers, etc._

Bear in mind that although the first chapter is uneventful, the story gets better farther along.

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**Chapter One**

Harry's eyes were weary and filled with partially disguised grief as he gazed out the window of the moving Hogwarts Express, not bothering to acknowledge Ron and Hermione's futile attempts at talking and ignoring their worried glances in his direction.

He was aware of them, but he chose to ignore them, lost in thoughts and painful memories instead. It was immediately after fifth year, and he would be returning to Number 4 Privet Dr. to spend his summer and birthday alone in a tiny, cluttered bedroom.

The landscape was slowly changing back to rural england, reminding Harry further that he was going to return to the Dursleys'. He sighed wearily, fogging up the window with mist, and for one horrible moment, he was reminded of the way Sirius' breath clouded the chilly air when he was panting excitedly in his dog form from running around during the christmas holidays.

As soon as he thought about his godfather, the pain in him was tangible in a sharp, throbbing ache, as though he had been kicked in the chest. Harry tried fruitlessly to tear his thoughts away from the animagus, his thoughts automatically turning back to the subject and emotion coupled with it that he kept trying so hard to not think about.

The Department of Mysteries.

And a terrible guilt.

Because it had been he, Harry, that had been tricked by Voldemort's lies. He had listened to his dream from Voldemort and the vile old house-elf Kreacher and had gotten Sirius killed. Sirius. His godfather and the last semblance of a real family he had.

Harry had been so trapped in his thoughts that he only noticed Hermione trying to get his attention when she was almost yelling. "...Harry? HARRY?" finally, he realised that she was talking to him. "Huh? Oh. Sorry Hermione. What were you saying?" he asked quietly. "The train's stopped, we're at the station." she said hesitantly. Harry nodded silently, picking up his trunk and Hedwig's empty cage so that they could exit into the crowded station.

The Weasleys were already waiting for Ron, waving at the red-haired boy from across the many people's heads. Harry followed slightly behind his two friends, smiling slightly when they welcomed him back with hugs and slaps on the back. Suddenly, Mrs. Weasley ran over to Hermione and him, wrapping them in a bone-crushing embrace. Finally, she let them go and Harry took a deep breath of air.

"I'm so sorry that we can't let you stay with us this summer, Dumbledore says it would be too dangerous. But promise to owl us dear, alright?" Mrs. Weasley looked anxious, patting Harry's cheek gently. Mainly to make her stop being so worried, he agreed and smiled weakly. "Be sure and tell us if those muggles mistreat you, you hear? Hang in there, Harry. And Hermione? Take care, sweetie. Have fun on your trip to america." Hermione beamed at Mrs. Weasley, answering her happily. However, Harry had noticed the large, impatient-looking muggle man standing just inside the barrier, tapping his foot. His heart sank.

"Um, I've got to go, guys. Er, see you, I guess..." Hermione suddenly leapt upon him with a tight hug, whispering in his ear. "Are you sure you'll be alright, Harry?" she asked gently. "I'll be fine, don't worry." he murmured. She pulled back and studied his face, and Harry was shocked to see tears forming at the corners of her eyes.

Ron came up and slapped Harry on the shoulder gently. "He'll be okay, 'Mione. Harry's tough." he said with a weak grin, giving his best friend a man-hug and waving along with his family and Hermione as Harry walked away, dragging his heavy trunk behind him. "You be sure to owl us once a week, Harry, or I'll have to steal Ron's broomstick and come to get you!" Hermione called, half-joking and half serious.

Harry smiled a genuine smile for a split second as he saw the way that Ron's hand was resting on her shoulder, until he remembered his Uncle standing impatiently by the barrier. Uncle Vernon grunted as way of greeting and walked back to the car, not bothering to see if Harry was following. '_Well_,' thought Harry darkly as he put his trunk in the seat beside him, '_at least Hedwig isn't here yet, so she'll get a few more hours of freedom_'.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Immediately after he got up the next morning, Aunt Petunia put Harry to work. First up on the list was '**Weed out flower beds**'. And so, Harry, having no gardening gloves, began pulling up the weeds with his bare hands. Thorns pricked his hands until they bled, but Harry relished the work, welcoming it as a way to ignore his grief.

When he had barely started, however, a cold wind picked up and rain began to come down. Soon, he was soaked to the skin, bleeding from innumerable thorn scratches on his hands, and shivering uncontrollably, but he continued working, knowing that his Aunt and Uncle would never excuse him from chores for a mere thing like a small tropical storm.

After a while, he sat back for a quick rest, rubbing his hands together to try to warm them. It had stopped raining and was now blowing a cold wind against Harry, making him even colder, as though his shirt was freezing to his skin. As he was about to continue his work, something in one of Mrs.-next-door's bushes caught his eye.

At first, he wasn't sure he'd actually seen it (after all, the cold wind didn't help his vision much) but then he was sure. There was a pair of glimmering, forest-green eyes peering out of the hedge at him. Harry started and slipped on the wet grass, landing on his back in a puddle of mud. For a second, the wind was knocked out of him, which started up a fit of rough coughs.

When he finally was able to look again, nothing was there. With a rush of relief, he remembered an almost identical happening when he was twelve, and that time, it was Dobby the house-elf. But then he stopped his relieved sigh.

Those were definitely not the eyes of a house-elf, and though they were very similar, he felt that they weren't exactly human either. Harry sighed he got up to go inside, knowing that he should tell someone about it. But then he stopped. He shook his head, _'I probably just imagined the whole thing because of this stupid rain..._' he thought to himself, _'or maybe it was just one of Mrs. Figg's cats_.' but somehow, he wasn't so sure...

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So, what did you think? If Harry wasn't just imagining it, what do you think was in the bush? Ain't that little review button just _adorable_? It's just calling out to you... **_'Click me... Click_**_**me**__...'_ Okay, so maybe it isn't. But please review? (hang in there if you didn't like it, I promise it gets more interesting.)  
I'll try to post the next chapter before Sunday, but reviews would definitely motivate me to write faster.


	2. Chapter 2

So, here it finally is. Chapter two. I haven't gotten any reviews yet, which is a disappointment, but I wasn't really expecting anything. I have had someone follow and favorite, so a big thanks to them. I meant to post this earlier, but I had other things I had to do. Then I tried to, but I couldn't figure out how. So, now I finally am doing it, and I hope you like it. Whew, this is a long chapter.  
**  
Disclaimer:** I am not J.K. Rowling and never will be, so none of this except for Ella belongs to me.

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"I'm done with the weeding Aunt Pe-" Harry's voice was cut off with a high-pitched shriek. "LOOK AT HOW

MUDDY YOU'VE MADE THE FLOORS, YOU FREAK! I'VE JUST FINISHED MOPPING AND YOU- YOU-!" Aunt

Petunia's outraged cries were cut off by Uncle Vernon reassuring her. "It's alright, Petunia, I'll make him

clean it up. What I wouldn't give to have gotten rid of YOU when we'd found you on the doorstep..." he

trailed off menacingly, starting over to where Harry stood, motionless. "I-I'm sorry Aunt Petunia I'll be

sure to clean it up- I forgot-" he began, but Uncle Vernon grabbed him by the back of the shirt. "That's.

Bloody. RIGHT. You. Will. And you'll be cleaning every other square inch of this house too while you're at

it!" and so he did. All through the time he was working, he wondered where his friends were and

what they would be doing now... Up until the sun was down and Dudley finally

got home from terrorizing neighborhood kids at around one A.M. He completely

ignored Harry as the smaller boy scrubbed the kitchen floor vigorously. Harry was fine

with that, but he wasn't really paying attention anyhow. He couldn't be bothered with

Dudley if the larger boy was leaving him alone. Finally, Uncle Vernon came in to tell

him, "Go to your room, you'll finish tomorrow. If not you'll be keeping us up all night."

Harry nodded, getting up to leave. he trudged up the staircase and into his storage

closet of a bedroom and closing the door behind him. As he was prying up the

floorboard where his school books were hidden to get to his book 'Quidditch Through

The Ages', a tapping noise came from the window. His snowy owl, Hedwig, was sitting

on the windowsill, a letter tied to her leg. "Thanks Hedwig." he told her, opening the

window. She hopped in, holding out the letter for Harry to take, then settled on his

shoulder, nipping his ear affectionately. Harry absent mindedly stroked her chest

feathers, opening the piece of parchment, which was apparently from Hermione.

_'Hi Harry,_

_My parents and are just about to leave for our vacation in america. I was about to_

_borrow Pigwidgeon to send you a letter, (Ron sent me a letter, and he was still here)_

_but then Hedwig showed up. She seemed to know that I wanted to send one to you._

_How are you Harry? Are the muggles treating you well? I wish I didn't have to talk_

_through only letters. When you get this letter, please owl me back soon. Sorry, but_

_'soon' has to be after the Tuesday after next, since that's when we'll be coming back-_

-suddenly, Harry's reading of the letter was cut off by a sudden clap of thunder. He

jumped, and noticed that his alarm clock now read 1:30. Harry yawned, placing the

letter on his desk. Without changing out of his clothes, he flopped onto his bed and

dozed off to sleep.

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The next morning, Harry woke up blearily to the sound of his uncle bellowing "We're

going out, Potter! We'll be back around noon!" up the stairs. Harry stuck his head out

the door and yelled "Okay Uncle Vernon!" before closing the door and flopping onto

his bed with a groan. He tried to go back to sleep, but after a while found that it was

futile. With a sigh, he got up and stumped down the stairs to the kitchen. After that, he

ate breakfast and left the house to walk down the street to a bench where he sometimes

sat to think, looking out over a small lake. The air was oddly chilly for summer, and a

cold breeze blew through his worn t-shirt and jeans. Harry shivered, turning back to go

and get a jacket. When he stepped back inside, he searched for his baggy gray hoodie,

finally finding it tossed haphazardly behind the sofa. Harry slipped it on over his

clothes, again leaving to go to his spot by the lake. The neighbors were all inside today,

discouraged by the chilly air. The lake's surface was rippling a great deal due to the

wind, reminding Harry of the Black Lake at Hogwarts. He smiled slightly to himself,

not paying attention to where he was walking. Suddenly, he found himself falling

through the air, landing ungracefully on his chest, once again having the wind knocked

out of him completely. "A-are you okay?" a very quiet, shy-sounding voice asked. Harry

saw a pair of hands holding out a blurry object to him, and he realised that they were

his glasses. "Oh, um, thanks." he mumbled, placing them back on his face. The thing

that he had tripped on turned out to be a medium-sized rock jutting up out of the

ground. He looked up to where the person that had helped him was now standing,

feeling his face grow extremely red in embarrassment. It was a girl of about his age who

had her eyes trained on the ground. From the looks of her, she was probably homeless;

her jeans were frayed and grubby, her sweater was much too large, hole-ridden and

dirty, and she looked as though she hadn't showered in a while. Nonetheless,

Harry could tell that underneath her messy hair drawn into a tangled bun and dirty face,

she was actually rather pretty. "Um... s-sorry, was this bench yours? Er, no o-of course

it's not yours but, d-id you...? Um. Oh dear..." she stammered. Blinking rapidly at the

ground. Her arms were crossed across her chest, trying to hold in any warmth that she

could. Harry shook his head. "No, it's okay. You can have it." he said. Something about

her eyes caught his attention. He peered at her face, and for one second, her eyes met

his. She blushed profusely, looking away. "Hey..." Harry began slowly. The girl looked

startled that he was speaking to her. "Do I know you?" he asked slowly. "Er- um- n-no

not technically... I-I mean no, no you don't know me." she stammered. Also something

about her voice caught his attention. She sounded like she had an american accent, with

only slight undertones of british. "Wait, this is going to sound crazy, but... were you in a

shrub yesterday?" he asked. The poor girl looked like she would have a heart attack.

"W-what? Oh, um, yes?" she said tentatively, as though asking a question. "Were you

watching me?" Harry asked incredulously, now doubting to doubt this girl's sanity.

"Yes! But I have a good reason! I-you-you're my last hope. I-I've been looking

everywhere for someone- anyone! That could help me and-and I found you..." she

trailed off and said something that Harry didn't catch. "Wh-what?!" he asked, wondering

wether he should try to help her or back away slowly. "I'm not crazy!" she exclaimed. "I

know you're a wizard! I-I-" suddenly, their eyes met again and she was still. "You're

Harry Potter?" she asked. "Calm down." Harry said gently, his head whirling. "Yes, I'm

Harry Potter, now why do you need my help?" the girl calmed down and sighed. "Can I

just... start over?" she asked quietly. Harry nodded. "Hi, um... Oh, dear... I used to live

with my mother, who, er, passed away five months ago, and she told me that I needed

to find Albus Dumbledore, and that I would need to let him know that she was... gone.

And I honestly tried until... there was a storm, and the portkey that my mother had

made was destroyed. I ran off after that, because, there's... no one to take care of me."

Harry was listening to the girl's story carefully and saw the pain disguised behind her

eyes whenever she spoke of her mother. "Well, I've been trying to find someone,

anyone, who was magic that could tell Dumbledore where I was so that... so that he

could come and get me, that he needed to protect me." Harry stopped her. "Wait, why

do you need protection? And why didn't you just owl someone?" the strange girl

blushed. "Well. It's... not exactly something I'm supposed to tell anyone except for

Dumbledore..." Harry nodded. "Oh, yeah, sorry." the girl continued. "I-I need you to

send a letter to Dumbledore. Can you tell him that... that Clarissa has passed away and

her daughter needs help. He'll know what I mean." Harry thought about this for a

moment. "Please, this is much more important than you know." and when he looked

into her dark green, almond-shaped eyes, he could definitely say that there was

something... different about her. Something not quite human. "Alright." Harry said, and

a look of relief spread across her features. "On one condition." she froze. "You tell me

your name." she smiled, which completely transformed her face. "Lorelei. But please,

_please_ just call me Ella. Now please, it really is urgent that you owl

Dumbledore." Harry nodded, seeing the seriousness in her eyes. They jogged back to

#4, sighing with relief as the warm air hit them. "Here, you can wait on the couch."

Harry said quickly, running up the stairs to get Hedwig and some parchment from his

bedroom. When he got back down, he saw that Ella had taken off the moth-eaten

sweater and was wearing a rather dirty-looking, but otherwise fine blue long sleeved

shirt. Through the thin fabric, he could see that she was very thin, and her ribs were

seeable from beneath her skin. Hedwig looked up suspiciously at the sight of the

strange girl, tipping her head to the side quizzically. "This is Hedwig." Harry said

gesturing to his white-plumed owl. "She's very pretty. Even for a snowy." Ella said, and

Hedwig seemed pleased with the compliment. Harry picked up a book and placed it on

his lap, pulling out parchment to compose the letter on. As he began hesitantly, he

remembered all of those delicate objects laying on the floor in his office, and the

reaction he'd had to what Dumbledore had said...

_'Dear Professor Dumbledore;_  
_  
This afternoon, I met a strange girl by the lake near #4, Privet Dr. she knows about_

_magic, and she asked me to write a letter to you for her. She told me that it's urgent._

_Her name is Lorelei, and she said to tell you 'Clarissa has passed away, and her_

_daughter needs help'. Also, she said that you'd know what that meant. I have no idea_

_who Clarissa or this girl are, but she seems to honestly need your help. If I'm wrong,_

_you can just disregard this letter, but I don't think I am. Please respond to this letter,_

_even if I'm wrong, I'm rather confused about what she's said._

_Sincerely, Harry Potter'_

After he finished writing it, Harry hesitated for a moment before slowly tying it to

Hedwig's leg. "Hedwig, this is a really important letter. Do you think you could get this

to professor Dumbledore as soon as you can?" Hedwig hooted gently in assent and

hopped off of his shoulder. Harry opened the window over the Dursley's kitchen sink,

watching Hedwig disappear on the horizon. "How soon do you think he'll respond?"

Ella asked anxiously, wringing her hands. "Maybe tomorrow morning. Hey... where are

you living?" Harry asked her, watching a dark look pass over her face. "Anywhere I

can." she said quietly her eyes trained on the ground. "Oh..." Harry answered, feeling

sorry that he'd asked. "I usually stay in abandoned houses, homeless shelters,

occasionally an alleyway if I can't find anywhere else..." a look of sadness and fear

came across her features at the mention of said alleys, and Harry got the feeling that

they weren't exactly the best place to spend the night. "Hey, maybe you could stay in

the basement until... whenever Dumbledore decides what to do. The muggles don't

ever go down there, they always tell me to go do the laundry and get stuff out of boxes.

It's rather cold, but I could get you some blankets if you'd like." Ella looked immensely

happy, and smiled widely again. "Oh, thanks so much. Um... c-can I call you Harry?"

she asked shyly. "Of course you can." he said shaking his head slightly and smiling.

Even though she was painfully shy and he at first thought her insane, he felt like he

might like her after getting to know her. She seemed genuinely kind and sweet. Harry

helped Ella set up a place in the basement behind a wall of boxes, giving her a thick

quilt and a flashlight with batteries. "Thank you... Harry." she said quietly, smiling.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

When the Dursley's got back from their trip that afternoon, Harry made them lunch and

dinner as usual, bringing Ella some of it as well when they weren't paying attention. He

gathered up the clothes to put them in the wash, carrying the heavy basket down the

stairs into the basement. As he walked down the last few steps, he heard a quiet, gentle

sound. "..._Au clair de la lune, Mon ami Pierrot. Prête-moi ta plume, Pour écrire un_

_mot_..." it sounded as though someone was singing softly in a sweet, lovely voice. 'Is

that Ella?' Harry wondered, feeling as though he was interrupting something. "_Ma_

_chandelle est morte, Je n'ai plus de feu. Ouvre-moi ta porte, Pour l'amour de Dieu_..."

Harry walked down quietly, seeing a faint silvery light coming from behind the boxes.

He walked around, seeing Ella facing away from him. The light was coming from

strange, silver sparks in the palms of her cupped hands, threading around each other to

form tiny figures that seemed to dance across her fingers and over her hands. The light

glimmered in her strange, inhuman, yet beautiful green eyes. Harry cleared his throat,

and immediately, the light disappeared and he was left in darkness. He flipped on the

light, seeing Ella sitting and reading the book he had lended her. "Um... Ella?" she

looked up, as though he had startled her, but he could see that she was faking it. "Oh, hi

Harry. Did you come down to do the laundry?" she asked, as though what had just

happened never did. "Er, yeah, I did." Harry said uncertainly. They talked while he put

the clothes in the wash and waited to put them in the dryer. Harry tried to ask her about

what he'd seen, but she evaded his question. That night, his dreams were filled with

silvery figures and people with bright, foreign green eyes. And it wasn't until later that

he noticed that where her hand had brushed by his, there was an odd, silvery substance

on his skin.

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Reviews anyone? Questions? Comments? Thanks for reading it, anyway.


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